


Date Night

by Vana



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, babysitting au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vana/pseuds/Vana
Summary: Stannis offers to watch Davos's kids for one night. All seven of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowsfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsfan/gifts).



> From [this](http://asoiafkinkmeme.livejournal.com/22515.html?thread=16281587#t16281587) prompt on the ASOIAF kinkmeme.

Davos can see the telltale blue flickering light of the TV through the drafty crack at the bottom of the door. His stomach tightens; he’d hoped they’d all be asleep. The very last thing he wants is his friend awake and irritated at the end of this already trying night. He keys open the door gingerly. 

Stannis is awake, with Steff asleep on one arm and the other resting on Stanny, who’s asleep across his namesake’s lap. Davos glances at the television: infomercials. Stannis’ gaze finds Davos the second he walks in the door and doesn’t leave him.

“I can’t move,” Stannis says in a half-whisper, “I don’t want to wake them up.”

Davos cracks a smile for what seems like the first time in hours. Come to think of it, it probably is the first time in hours. He walks toward the sectional, helps move Steff into a corner of the sofa and then gently lifts Stanny off Stannis’ legs. His palm brushes Stannis’ thigh. The youngest son half-coughs, half-snores. The men freeze, then breathe again as Stanny settles back into quiet and Davos shifts him so he’s lying on the sofa, a throw pillow under his head.

Davos beckons Stannis toward the kitchen with a tiny movement of chin. The kitchen is dark. Davos leaves the lights off. Stannis stretches; Davos can hear the joints of his shoulders and back crack.

Finally Stannis breaks the silence. “How did it go with Lysa?” 

Davos is definitive, unhesitating. “Terrible.”

He swears that through the dim light filtering in from the living room, he can see Stannis smile.

“That bad?” is all his friend says.

“Oh, it wasn’t catastrophic. No one crashed their car or spilled a drink or brought up the wrong dating service or horrible divorce story. It just … well … there was no chemistry.” He shakes his head clear of the cloying voice, the quick rollercoaster between irritability and docility that had peppered his evening with awkward moments. “We didn’t connect, you might say.”

“I’m sorry,” Stannis says, and he sounds sincere. But Davos remembers that little smile at _terrible_.

“I’m not,” says Davos. “It’s better to know. But I do feel bad you had to watch all the boys all night for … that.”

Stannis is looking at the counter and seems to take a minute to gather himself. “They were great,” he says at length. “We didn’t have any trouble.”

Davos finds that hard to believe. With seven boys from seventeen down to three, how could there be no trouble? But Stannis looks relaxed, and Davos has seen him tense — how many times he has seen him tense, how many times he’s wanted to relieve it, but never could.

“Dale went out with his girlfriend first of all,” Stannis begins. “I didn’t think you’d mind.” 

 “No, I figured he would. Is he home?” 

“I … don’t think so.” Stannis looks abashed. “I didn’t ask him when he would be home.”

Davos knows Dale wouldn’t break curfew for the world and would be home just about exactly 11:58 p.m. “That’s all right. Allard…?”

Stannis’ mouth tightens slightly. Of course, Allard would be the one to put _that_ expression on Stannis' handsome face. Davos wonders how bad it got.

“Allard took Matthos out in the car. Don’t worry, I made them come back. I know he’s only got his learner’s permit.”

Davos stifles a laugh so as not to wake the little ones. “How did you make them come back? I can’t make Allard do much unless he thinks it’s his own idea.” This has always been the case. Allard is his rebel, his free-thinker, his challenging second-born. Yet sometimes Davos feels closer to him than to responsible, obedient Dale.

“I let him know it was in his best interest to drop Matthos back at home lest he run into trouble with the law.” 

Davos knows that’s all the information he’s going to get. “And Allard is now …”

“In his room, either asleep or watching TV,” Stannis says, “after taking and passing the practice written test to get his license.” 

“‘And passing’? How many times did you make him take it before he passed?”

“I can’t be sure,” Stannis says. “It may have been as many as five.”

Davos can only shake his head. Whatever magic Stannis had worked …

“Matthos and Maric are playing a video game,” Stannis interrupts his thoughts. “ _Westeros Creed_. I don’t approve of the violent nature of that game but at least now they have passed that infernal level they insisted on repeating until they maxed out their points and rewards.”

“You passed that level for them,” Davos says in disbelief. “Unless it was Al. Matthos and Maric can’t do it by themselves.”

“I only coached,” Stannis replies, somewhat defensive. “Allard was preparing dinner for Devan and the small boys.”

“Allard cooked _dinner_?” 

“Allard can read,” Stannis flashes back. “All you need to cook is to be able to read a recipe and concentrate.”

“Yes, but Allard has never been able to—“

“Concentrate? He can when it’s a choice between that or let Maric play his guitar, which he was going to have to do if they didn’t get any farther along on _Westeros Creed._ I would rather hear anything than that video-game theme song again. Awful six-bit atonal dreck.”

Davos is laughing now, watching Stannis’ brow furrow at the memory. “What did Allard make? What did Maric want to play? What did Devan do?”

“Chicken parmesan and garlic bread. ‘Sweet Child o’ Mine.’ Repainted his skateboard.” 

“Again?

“It wasn’t right,” Stannis says ominously, and leaves it at that. Davos knows what it means when Devan says something isn’t right. His perfectionist child never stops until a thing is perfect, whether it’s art, a science diorama or a game of Operation. “He’s asleep now,” Stannis goes on. “I insisted he vent the paint fumes from his room, so he’s in Steff and Stanny’s room until the air clears in his own.”

“So that’s why Steff and Stanny are out here.”

“No,” Stannis says, finally faltering. “That’s not why. Steffon wanted to wait up for you, and Stannis … well …”

“What? He wanted to be with Steff?” 

Stannis says faintly, “He wanted to be with me. He’s so young, only four, yes?” 

“Three and a half.” 

“He wants me to stay here all the time, he said. I said I couldn’t promise anything but that he was welcome to watch cartoons with me until he fell asleep.”

Davos watched Stannis’ face soften. “You let him watch cartoons? I thought it was only going to be educational programs.” 

“There was plenty of that as well. But, toward the end of the night, he asked for Beric and the Brotherhood. I saw no harm in it.”

“He has you wrapped around his finger,” Davos laughs, softly. Stannis tries to scowl, but he can only manage a feeble half-frown. Most of his expression is warm and tender. 

“It’s possible I have a soft spot for the boy who bears my name,” Stannis says, defensive again, but sleepy, soft. “You could hardly blame me.”

Davos wants to touch his face. He grips the countertop behind him to stop himself. “I’m glad it went okay,” he says, looking anywhere but at Stannis. 

“I’d like to say I’m sorry your date was not as much of a success as my evening watching your sons,” Stannis says — is he moving closer? “But I’m not.”

He closes the distance between them, reaches for Davos’ face and gazes at him openly for a moment before touching his lips to Davos’ firmly. Davos is shocked but his eyes flutter closed under the heat of Stannis’ lips. When they part, Stannis is flushed in the dimness and Davos’ heart is pounding.    
“I’m not sorry either,” he says, short of breath, wrapping his arms around Stannis’ slim waist, pulling him in. “Next time should we ask Lysa to babysit while you and I go out?”

“No,” Stannis says. Davos’ heart sinks — is Stannis turning him down? Then he goes on: “I wouldn’t trust that woman with your sons for even half an hour. I will do due diligence, then engage a suitable caretaker … one who has plenty of availability — including overnights.”

Davos blinks, leaning into Stannis’ chest to hide the smile that threatens to split his face. The night has been a success after all.

**Author's Note:**

> All my gratitude to shadowsfan for the photoshop inspiration. ;) And merry late Christmas!


End file.
